


Le Dernier Sourire

by IOUtoTheGrave



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Doctor John Watson, Feels, Implied Mystrade, Med Student John, Memories, Researcher!Sherlock, Sickness, Strong John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:15:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IOUtoTheGrave/pseuds/IOUtoTheGrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or Last Smile in French.<br/>Sherlock is a scientist and John is his best friend. One day, while John was treating one of his patients, a doctor arrived and told him something horrible, something tragic. The lab was contaminated with a deadly bacteria and Sherlock was in the lab. What is happening?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Le Dernier Sourire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there people! Name's IOUtoTheGrave and this is my very first story posted here, on Archive of our Own! I hope you enjoy!

Le Dernier Sourire.

Sherlock.  
You were a great man, a brilliant researcher who, for the sake of the world and the children, tried to cure the world.  
You were amazing, but now I learn that you have been infected by a deadly bacteria and that you are contained for the time being. The doctor that found you convulsing on the floor told me that you probably won't make it.  
I crumble to the floor as the weight of the news crashes on me. Tears cloud my view as the fact that you soon won't be by my side anymore was sinking in me.  
You were dying.  
You're not supposed to die. You're Sherlock Bloody Holmes, the most intelligent and brilliant and strongest man I've ever met.  
I slowly got up and the kind doctor guided me to your room, to you.  
The doctor led me to a glass panel and there I saw you lying on a bed, just next to the glass, an IV sticking out of your arm and the machine indicated a normal heart beat.  
As if you sensed me, you stirred and opened blearily your eyes and you whispered to me: "Hello John."  
You smiled, sat up and put your hand flat on the glass panel. I smiled back and put my hand against yours. You looked so normal that I wondered if what the doctor said about you being sick was a lie.  
I watched you and you watched me, we craved each other's touch but now there is a glass panel between us, infested of harmful germs, you are no longer allowed to touch anyone.  
I watched you and you watched me, in a silence that screamed many unspoken words.  
Days passed and your condition was getting even worse, even though you couldn't see it from the outside, on the inside, your heart was weakening, slowly.  
You often lament tearfully that there's nothing you can do anymore.  
I asked about your research topics, thinking that maybe I could get you something to do, maybe even finish your research.  
However, your explanation made my head hurt.  
I don't understand any of it.  
I can't do anything for you.  
After all, I am no researcher, I am simply your best friend.  
"But thank you still."  
With a smile, you said to me.  
"Let's chat without any of that technical talk."  
We talked about a great many things, we shared our memories, with goofy smiles on our faces.  
Our best memory was when we first met, I was a medical student and I needed to go to the lab to find a antibiotic for a patient.  
When I entered the lab, I saw you, looming over a microscope, intently analysing some substance. Pretending to not find the right medicine, I watched you do your calculations, murmuring things here and there. You were mixing a few chemicals when you suddenly said: "You can drop the act Doctor, I know you're watching me."  
I jumped and shyly approached you and asked curiously: "What is that for?" You looked at me with sharp stormy blue eyes.  
"I'm trying to find a cure to various diseases to save the world. For the sake of children." I smiled a bit, "That's sweet." You looked up, surprised.  
"Sweet? You think so?"  
"Well, yeah, I mean, you trying to save children and the world, it's the right thing to do." You frowned.  
"Most people don't usually say that..."  
"What do they usually say?"  
"'Good, you'll earn a lot of money and respect.'" I froze, shocked.  
"Who are these people?" We laughed and my life went downhill from there on. Soon enough we got a flat together, we sometimes work together, you helping me with my Medical Exam exercises. When I passed the Exam, you were so proud of me, I will never forget that smile you wore on your face that day.  
We were incredibly close, we were so close, that people thought we were a couple! But we weren't, we were best friends.  
I soon met your brother, Mycroft, who was the director of the hospital. He gave me the 'If you hurt him, I will' speech, he scared me to be honest, but I'll never admit it. I also met your part time assistant and also lover of your brother, Gregory Lestrade. He was a good lad, a good friend, but will never be as good as you...  
We laughed as we relived those wonderful memories of ours.  
Even though we were tired and scared, the two of us kept talking and talking across the glass wall.  
Even though we couldn't feel each other's touch, we were without a doubt in contact.  
We spent our time in laughter, until your last moments.  
When we parted, the two of us reticent, the feelings we conveyed in the end, see you then.  
"I love you."  
"I love you too."  
You smiled, your last smile. I burned that image in my mind, to be forever remembered.  
Your hand dropped from the glass panel and your eyes closed slowly. The machine beeped longly and showed a flat line.  
I screamed for you to wake up, hitting to glass panel standing between us.  
I will never be able to see your blue eyes again, I will never hear you beautiful baritone voice anymore, I will never see your long and elegant hands work substances to find a cure to save the world.  
They roll you away and the only things they gave me were: your coat, your glasses, your silver ring and the wonderful necklace you had bought me but that I forgot to bring back home. You were supposed to give it to me the day you got infected, before you got infected.  
The necklace was a thin golden chain with a pendant of the letter S and J intertwined together, it was chosen to match the ring, the same letters engraved on the silver.  
I slipped on the ring, attached the necklace to my neck and pocketed the glasses in my pocket. The coat was too big for me, you were so tall and thin.  
I smile softly as I walk away from the hospital to our- no, my flat at 221B Baker Street. The flat feels so empty without you.  
Spilling and falling from my fingertips, your 'I love you.', where is it now?  
The funeral was held a few days later. Greg, Mycroft, your Mummy and a few others were there. It was a small and quiet funeral. Soon everyone left and I was alone.  
I touched the smooth stone of the black tombstone you rest under. Your name was engraved in gold on it, nothing else, just your name. But if you took a closer look, on the top right corner was our symbol, the same as the one on the necklace and the ring.  
The image of you smiling your last smile came back to me and I smiled at your tombstone as if it were you smiling.  
"Goodbye Sherlock."  
This is the end, I’m not going to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are welcomed and appreciated!


End file.
